Rain
by Redmoon124
Summary: The Storm Series. Memories are demons, only held at bay by control. But if they find a key, a source, they are free. You can do nothing but survive the storm. Jane said yes to Casey. Continued in The Senses Series.
1. Rain

Don't own them. Just playing, will put them back when I finished. The story however is mine.

One shot. Maura. P.o.v.

AU. kinda of. Time line end of forth series.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Rain.**

It's not the raised edge of skin, or the exposed muscle beneath, that stays her hand. Nor is it the obvious evidence now revealed, that indeed this case is a homicide, that gives her pause. Yet she's stopped, the scalpel frozen in movement, purpose redundant. She tries to focus, breathing in, but the air's inhale is filled with death and decay, suddenly to raw on her senses.

She stiffens, fingers tightening around the silver instrument. Head turning without her permission, to look up and over to the row of windows lining the top of her lab. It is the rain, the sound of drops hitting the glass, a tempo repeating, growing in strength as the down pour outside escalates. This has broken into her concentration, intruded into her work, her world, her mind, made her stop. She draws in air again, trying to blink away the distraction. But she can't, something is being drawn, like a leech has attached to memory cells and is sucking them to the surface.

_''I can't... I'm sorry.''_

She blinks, straightening up, breaking the stuttered image, dispelling that voice, that moment. Hand shaking slightly, she carefully focuses on stepping back, her movements are strained. Placing the scalpel down onto the tray, heavier than she anticipated, the ding of metal on metal echoing, showing she hasn't the control she thought she had. She exhales, focusing on turning off the recorder, on reaching to pull the white linen sheet up over the victim, covering him, unable to continue with the autopsy. Another step back, has her pulling off the blue gloves, annoyance making her grab and tug the remaining rubber from her left hand, ripping latex free with a snap. The protective goggles removed in a rush and tossed totally out of character, haphazardly onto the work top.

The rain above increases, thumping sounds, like a pulse of blood in her veins. Her eyes close, swallowing as her throat tightens.

_''Maura... please... please don't hate me.''_

Eyes snap open, she turns, moves fast, as if the act of distancing from the windows will stop this, stop this cascade. She walks purposely towards her office, heels tapping out her tattooed retreat. Only halting once she is inside, slamming the door hard, leaning back against the wood, willing her body weight to be a stronger barricade to the assaulting sound of rain.

_''I'm going... going to say, yes.''_

She's growling, annoyed, angry, angry at herself that she cannot control this! She's worked so hard, put it away, dealt with it. But right now, three months, thirteen days of controlling, defences are being ripped to nothing. She'd rebuilt all those walls, withdrawn to how she used to be... alone, emotionless, protected. Now all because of a weather phenomenon, a natural occurrence, she's being pulled back, dragged down. She battles it, reciting Newton's Laws. Wanting the calm of science, her true companion, her true friend. But still it ripples, the third law vibrating in her mind, sticking like an old gramophone record...repeating... _Actioni contrariam semper et æqualem esse reactionem: sive corporum duorum actiones in se mutuo semper esse æquales et in partes contrarias dirigi... To every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction: or the forces of two bodies on each other are always equal and are directed in opposite directions._

Her hands go into her hair, fingers cupping her skull, as if the act will still the words... but they don't. Opposite directions - that was her, thrown into oblivion by the force of another. She had thought it was equal, they were equal, one thought, one mind, on the same course. But she'd been wrong, oh so very very wrong.

She can't focus, she can't tear her mind away from it's own destruction, the dominoes are falling, tilting, each one toppling the other to the inevitable. She's shaking, muscles tensing, releasing, nerve endings sending distress. Her heart rate has increased, blood pressure elevated, whispers of adrenalin are scratching her insides raw. She closes her eyes, inhaling, exhaling, trying to regain control. Logic waging a war against the emotions. Logic won't win, she knows this, logic is never triumphant, over inbuilt responses to an emotional breakdown.

Her arms drop, curling hands into fists, fingers seek shelter in her palm. But still she can hear it, still she can feel the vibration against her ear drum, sending signals like Morse code to her brain, S.O.S rip apart her resolve. She isn't here in the lab any more, she's back there.

The car, the storm, the lightning electrifying the world to a point of beginnings and endings.

_''I'm going... going to say, yes.''_

_The words echo... leaving behind a silence that doesn't even hold the sound of breathing, as if each of them are holding it in, lodged somewhere under erratic hearts, stuck. Silence so loud it hurts, everything hurts. All Maura can do is stare, mouth opening and closing. She has no words to voice, because if she does it will the truth inside... But Jane is going to marry him. It was wrong, so wrong. Panic is lacing through her, weaving pin pricks of reality, she is going to lose, lose Jane. If she doesn't tell, if she doesn't let it out, Jane is going to go, leave. She can't, she can't lose her._

_''Please don't... Jane, please, you can't.''_

_Jane's head jerks up, shock evident, irises cobalt, tracing gaze across her, Maura swears she can feel it. _

_''Why?'' is asked. _

_Now, Maura has to do it now, give the answer, give the truth. ''I'm in love with you...'' the words a whisper, the confession a prayer, they pull from her like a knife slicing, the emotion of love choking._

_Jane is still staring, silent. But Maura sees the spark of light that fills dark eyes, an expanding aura ring. Hears the way breathing stutters. The reaction sets Maura on fire. It burns for a different reason when Jane looks down, breaking from her, the moment slipping away. No no no no..._

_But the turmoil of the act is evident, Jane's hands are wringing together, nervous motion against scars. Maura doesn't wait for thought, it's instinct. She reaches across, grabbing the hands, stilling them. Jane eye's shoot up, locking. Time doesn't exist, everything is there on view. Maura sees, and it's glorious. She moves fast, a hand to a neck, pulling forward, ignoring the resistance that doesn't last long, bending Jane forward. Foreheads touch, breaths exchange. Lips meet... Maura isn't sure who instigated it, but, Oh god, she is home. Finally, finally she tastes; Coffee, peppermint and uniquely Jane. Everything loses focus, consuming, starving, taking. She can't stop the sound that rumbles outward, as mouths open, tongues caress, they dance._

_The lightning outside, pales in comparison to the electricity streaking through her body. She is a live wire, no earth to bind too. She is Frankenstein's monster awakening from death, blood pumping, muscles contracting, synapses firing, life returning. She curls her tongue, touching teeth and ridges, taste buds registering bitter and sweet... oh so sweet. Getting lost in the sensory overload as Jane's tongue mimics, swirling. She shifts forward, grabbing anything to anchor too. Wanting to fall deeper, to give over to the first meeting of skin. Nails rake her back, the silk of blouse doing nothing to mute the feeling, it sends shock waves to her core. She rocks, legs parting, connecting to a muscled thigh, grinding. The moan Jane releases, vibrates everything into fire... Fingers grip, search, glide, touch. Maura is blind and Jane is Braille.  
_

_Suddenly there is space and air. Hands encompass her wrists, a vice. Tugging, breaking her grip, shoving her away. She stumbles back, chest heaving. Mind blank, lost in the haze, stuttering to reboot. Finally it returns enough to focus, to see. Jane, Jane's face, tears covering skin, pain rippling over every pore, eyes avoiding, head shaking._

_''I can't... I can't... I'm sorry. Maura, please... please, don't hate me.'' _

_Jane releases her. The car door opens, cold air blasts. The door slam makes her jump, reality screaming... Jane is gone._

_Maura's world breaks, she breaks. The gods must hear it, feel it, Zeus's thunderbolt crashes. Thor's hammer flashes. The heavens open, weeping a torrent of rain onto the wind screen, Oden's maidens wail... _

_She sits, inert, staring, staring into nothing, unable to do anything, but breath through the storm._

The bang of thunder, makes her jolt, breaking her from the past. Another so intense, rumbles the foundations and stutters the lights above, flickering the masks on the wall into macabre watchers. Her hand is at her mouth, sealing the sob, holding it hostage, not letting it out, she can't... she can't do this again. Her body shakes harder with the act of forced silence. Her eyelids flutter, leaving a moment, no more than a second for Lachrymose to appear and reap his sorrow. She'd forgotten, how had she forgotten the agony of it? Her knees don't want any part of this, they release their burden, her weight, the cross on her shoulders pushing her down, down... She crumbles. Breathing now is a gift not bestowed, she has to fight for every inhale and exhale as the the pain and agony consume and break free. It rages, the sorrow, the loss, the rejection.

She weeps, sucking in air, beginning to think it will never end. But it does, it ebbs, the last of it leaving her weak, broken again. She just sits, hunched, legs drawn up, chin resting on her knees. She feels like a child, watching as others mock, walk by and never stop to touch. It shudders through her, the remembrance of loss, of neglect. But she'd over come it, became who she wanted to be. She is better than this, she is stronger than this. She's survived heart ache before. She will do it again. She breathes, letting the action sooth, expanding diaphragm, ribs, slow, deep.

The memory now is not as sharp, not as brutal. Jane... Maura had felt it, seen it. Jane had responded, her eyes and body couldn't hide the fact of her arousal, want, wanting Maura. But it was Jane's mind, Jane's will that had won, withdrawing, chose him, not her. Maura had begged, gone to Jane the next day, begged like a pitiful fool, lowered herself to a place that made her hate herself, hate Jane. The second rejection was just as brutal for them both... Maura had walked away finally accepting no matter what the evidence, Jane was not going to back down, to give in to it. Maura distanced, reinforced her will, remade what was left. Their professional meetings were painful, stunted, robotic. The toll on both of them on view to all. Now they were just an M.E and a Detective, no semblance of what they used to be remained.

Gathering herself, she wipes a palm across her face, pushing hair back into place as she rises, a phoenix from the flames. Methodically moving to her desk, to sit. Grabbing at tissues to clean her face, not caring about make up and how she must look. She sniffs, ignoring the urge to run, to hide. Recomposing, shifting the plates of armour back into the place. She stares down at her hands, extending each finger until the shaking subsides. Breathing deeply, she shifts, tilting her head back until she is staring at the white of the ceiling. Eyes closing, straining to listen, to listen for the rain. But it's gone, the storm has passed.

Her spine straightens, her eyes dip as she opens the drawer, removing the small bag. Mind is focused as she pulls free the small mirror, staring at the reflected face, she doesn't recognise it. Quickly she begins the routine; reapplying mascara, eye-liner, dusting a light foundation, finally a kiss of lipstick. The image now looking back she knows, her mask is in place. She clicks the bag shut, replacing it in the drawer. Rising, she smooths down the black scrubs, walking swiftly, now her heels tap a tattooed advance. She doesn't pause on opening the door. She steps into her domain.

When she removes the sheet, her hands are steady. As she pulls on fresh gloves, there is no hesitation. When she restarts the recorder and speaks, her voice shows no evidence of what has just transpired. As she slices through arteries, and cups the heart, removing it to place on the scales, there is nothing there at all to show hers is broken.

Because now, now there is no Maura Isles, there is only the Queen of the dead and the dead can't hear the rain.

...Fin...

A/N

As always thank you for reviews, and taking the time to read. All guests and lurkers, I thank you too. Don't be so shy, I don't bite... much. :P


	2. Tornado

The original Rain, was supposed to be a one shot. But I was asked very nicely if I would expand it and bring in Jane. Normally when I say one shot, that's it. But the seed was sown and suddenly my bard, decided, yep not finished. So, here you are. Not sure how many more chapters there will be. I will update weekly, maybe quicker depending on time.

I don't own them, nor have I won them for the day... pity. But for now I'm playing with um. No infringement, no profit and no chance of writing a script. But in my bards world, they're mine all mine. Mwhahahahahaha.

Jane pov. Part Two Of 'Rain.'

Please note, the beginning of this chapter may not be every ones cup of tea. M rated.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Tornado**

Her back hits the mattress with a grunt, air expelling. But she doesn't have time to inhale before she's exhaling sharply, as fingers rake across her stomach, nails leaving furrows across skin, but it's to harsh. She pushes against a solid chest, gaining space, growling. The laughter she hears is deep, rumbling, and does nothing for her right now. She should be lost in sensations, of thighs bracketing, skin to skin, the warm weight lowering over her, nipples tingle and throb as chest hair brushes as he surges up. But for some reason right now it feels too much and his weight oppressive. She swallows, as fingers trace her outer thigh, swirling inward. She closes her eyes, trying to focus on this, on him. It was her idea, she'd virtually jumped him when he'd opened the door to his apartment. Teeth, tongues the whole package she'd thrown at him. She'd been antsy all day, a perp had run, and she'd chased for blocks before bringing him down. The buzz of adrenalin was still streaming through her body. She needed some kind of release, so she'd come here, now she wasn't so sure it was a good idea.

His teeth bite at her shoulder, and she scratches nails down his back in retaliation. A kiss opens her mouth and suddenly her tongue is sucked and for one movement, she honest to god thinks she's going to throw up. But his mouth moves away, lips mumbling, butterflies kissing her jaw. Her head tilts back, neck exposed and teeth graze a line. She arches as hands glide over her breasts, jerking a hiss as nipples are pinched. She's about to slap him, but his fingers shift away and splay across her ribs, thumbs rubbing. His deep chuckle annoys the hell out of her, she might still slap him. His lips graze across her scar and she's about to tense up, but he moves to her hip. She draws in a long deep breath, trying to focus on this, but when his teeth suck at her hip bone, focus shifts away. Mind elsewhere, back at work, the case she'd just closed, the whole fuck up with the warrant. The argument with her mother about Maura. Shit... She does not want to think about Maura right now.

The opening of her legs brings her back with a jolt. She tries, she really does try to lose herself in his touch, blank her mind, but everything seems wrong. Her body is not responding the way it should be. The hands are too harsh, too quick. She doesn't want quick, she wants slow, she wants to burn, lose herself. Growling, she grabs his hair, tangling her fingers shoving him south. That... she wants that. His mouth, his soft mouth, it always breaks this stalemate her body and mind wage against each other. His moan is deep, husky, filled with want, want for her. She feels his need, hard against her stomach as he moves downward. Leaving wet kisses in his wake and the sting of his five o'clock shadow. When his breath ghosts across her centre, the feeling almost breaks this limbo she's in, knowing what he can do, make her feel, take away the reality of life. The anticipation has her gripping the sheets beneath.

Suddenly all movement stops. She waits, biting her lip, nothing continues. Finally she opens her eyes, looking down. ''Casey?''

His gaze dips downward, back up, a frown forming. ''You okay?''

She sits up enough to lean back on her elbows. Totally disbelieving he's asking this right now. Watching as he shifts back from her, his eyes dipping again to look between her legs. She resists the urge to slam them shut, feeling totally exposed in more ways than one. ''You pick now to ask me if I'm okay?'' she flicks back a fallen lock of hair.

He exhales. ''You're... not.'' he chews his lip.

This time she doesn't hold back her annoyance. ''Jesus. Casey, I'm not what?''

His jaw clenches. ''You're not wet!''

All she can do is blink, mouth falling open. Her body decides slamming her legs shut right now is a good idea, so it does and just for good measure it pulls her legs up and away. His hand chases her, but she squats at it. He looks as embarrassed as she feels. He's eyeing her warily. Which he should be, because if she had her gun she isn't at all sure she wouldn't be shooting him. She grabs at the sheet tugging it free from under both of them, causing him to fall sideways. ''Well excuse me, if I'm not built to go zero to sixty in less than a minute.''

He sighs, wiping a palm down his face. ''Hey... come on. It's not my fault.''

''Fault? You think I'm faulty?''

''What!'' his head does a double take. ''No of course not... Shit, okay, okay. I didn't mean, you're usually...'' he shuts up when she glares harder at him. He sighs heavily. ''sorry... I could have been more tactful, instead just blurting it out.''

''Ya think!'' she pulls the sheet up higher, tucking it under her crossed arms.

He moves closer, reaching for her hand. She really does think about not letting him have it. She's embarrassed, both by the fact she isn't wet and the fucking fact he brought it up. She avoids looking at him at all costs, the blush burning her face. He traces fingers across the back of her hand. Now it's getting harder not to pull it away, she hates the feeling on her scars.

''It's okay. We can... we can just cuddle.''

Both eyebrows rise, eyes shooting to him in surprise ''Cuddle?''

He shrugs, eyes amused. ''Yeah.''

A smirk twitches. Gaze dipping to between his legs. ''Something wants more than a cuddle.''

He laughs. ''Well, I'm not ruled by my dick.''

She inwardly cringes, thinking how crude. Her brain stutters, what the hell... Crude? That's something Maura would say. Maura... The name slams into her. She has to swallow the lump it causes.

''Hey... You gonna tell me what's wrong?''

His concerned voice breaks the emotion. She stares, trying to see him and not the images of Maura that are kicking her ass right now. ''Nothing. It's just been a rough week.'' She knows he doesn't believe her. He always drops it, makes a joke, silently waits, giving her doe eyed looks.

''Jane... I know it's not work. Something else is going on. You gonna tell me what it is?''

So much for dropping it. She pulls her hand away, rising from the bed, sheet thrown aside. ''Look, I'm tired, I shouldn't have come over.''

''Right.''

She can hear the frustration in his voice. She doesn't blame him. If the roles were reversed she'd be more than frustrated. She dips to pick up her clothes, eyes searching the floor for her underwear. ''I just need sleep.''

''Sleep here.''

The scoff comes out before she can stop it. His eyes jump to her. She looks away quickly, pulling on her jeans, ignoring the fact she still can't find her underwear.

''What did that sound mean?''

''What sound?''

He stands, grabbing at his boxers, pulling them on. Eyes levelled on her the whole time. ''You don't want to sleep here... You always go home.''

She zips her jeans, scoffing again, her own annoyance going up a click at his tone. ''I can't just come here to sleep.'' She pulls the t shirt over her head. ''…...you always want sex.'' her whole body freezes, eyes widening. Before she can apologies he's moved around the bed to stand in front of her.

''What the hell is that supposed to mean? I always want sex. You saying you don't?''

The guilt of speaking the words leaves her in a rush as he invades her space. Her own defences engaging. ''Not all the damn time, no.'' she hops on one leg as she pulls on her boot. Apparently her socks are missing too. ''Sometimes I just want to watch a crappy movie ... sit on the couch and find a documentary on the life cycle of the fruit fly...'' Her words trail off, realising exactly what she is describing. A sense of lose hits her like a punch to the gut.

''A documentary...'' he laughs. ''on Flies?... Since when do you watch stuff like that?''

She glares at him. Hackles fully raised. ''Not the damn point. I just want to do something else with you, other than opening my legs.''

His whole body jerks as if she'd slapped him. ''Jesus Christ, Jane. What the hell is going on?''

She sucks in air, heart thumbing. There's a storm brewing inside. Clouds are gathering and the temperature drop is making it hard to breath. ''Nothing. I shouldn't have said that.'' She's already walking away, grabbing her badge, phone and gun. But this time he isn't letting her go, he's in front of her before she can reach the front door. ''Casey. Move.''

''No. not this time.''

She laughs, and it really isn't funny. Nothing is. But she needs out of here. She clips her gun on, followed by her badge. Knowing his eyes are watching. ''And what? you're not going to move till I what?''

''Just talk to me. Tell me what's wrong?''

Fight or flee. The instincts are burning. He is blocking her exit so he was going to get what was left... Fight. ''Why does there have to be something wrong, just because I don't want sex and I want to go home to bed! This week has been shit. I don't need this from you every damn time I don't feel like staying over.''

''Jane. You're marrying me.''

His words stop her cold, the fight frozen. She feels like she's in a vortex, everything being sucked away. 'What has... what has that got to do with this?''

He crosses his arms. Meeting her gaze head on. ''You tell me? We're going to share a life together, live together. Yet you won't even tell me what is going on with you.''

Some time's she forgets he's trained to make a stand and is just like her when it came to finding something out. She keeps her voice level. Even though this is making her insides shake. ''There isn't anything going on.''

''I don't believe you.''

''That's your problem!'' she stops, pinching the bridge of her nose, reining in her anger. She feels trapped, in a place she does not want to be. But it's not his fault. She takes a calming breath. ''Look... Just give me time.''

''Time for what?''

She wants to scream. Now of all nights when she's exhausted, he picks to question and push. ''I need to just deal with stuff.''

''Jesus, what stuff?'' She can hear his frustration building.

''Me... I need to sort out me!'' this time she does yell. ''Shit...'' She backs off. He is just staring at her, eyes piercing as if he's trying to read her. The silence lengthens, she about to speak, to apologies, but he talks first.

''You wish you hadn't said yes. Don't you?''

Her heart stutters. She can actually hear the roaring of her blood. Everything spins for a second, until she realises she's holding her breath. She breathes out. She can't deal with this right now. ''Casey, please don't do this.''

''Yeah, actually I think I am going too. I've shut up, not asked. Well now I'm asking. What the hells happened in last four months? You don't even wear my ring.''

''Christ... I told you why I can't, it snagged when I pulled my gun. It's in my I.D wallet.''

''Yeah. You said.''

She bites the inside of her mouth, the pain sharp, it grounds her. Grounds her enough to rein in her emotions. ''Don't look for things that aren't there.'' The lies come so easily to her now. Because things are there, just not in view, buried away. But he's digging, and each question is bringing it all to the surface. ''….. We're fine.''

''Right, because us arguing like this is fine and I'm just imagining how you've been lately...'' he runs a hand back through his hair, then he pauses, looking right at her. Her spine stiffens at the look on his face.

''Is this something to do with Maura? Did you fight with her again?''

Shit... Did she fight? No. She'd welcome a fight with her, all she gets now is impassive and no emotion. ''No. I didn't fight with her.'' She bites her thumb nail. Wanting him to stop asking questions.

He cocks his head. ''Why don't you two talk any more?'' his hands are wringing. A habit she knows he got from her. ''Did your friendship break up because you're marrying me? She doesn't trust I won't hurt you again?''

Oh god... She really wants out of here. She exhales. ''Yes.'' not a total lie. If she can keep to the half truths she'll be fine. She inwardly flinches as he steps closer.

''Shit, Jane you could have told me that... I'll go talk to her.''

Fuck no... ''What! no... just leave it, it's done.''

''Come on, let me talk to her, convince her I'm not going to hurt you. I love you, she needs to see that. I get it. She's only looking out for her friend. But there's no need for you two to fall out over it... I'll go see her, we never got the chance to be friends, we can hang out get to know each other.''

She nearly laughs at the scene of Maura and him 'hanging out'. At the same time it's terrifying. She feels like she's being pulled in eighty different directions. ''It isn't going to help, so just leave it. I chose you.'' she steps around him.

But suddenly he's right in front of her. ''Wait! What?... She made you choose?''

Her tongue doesn't want to move, all she sees is that moment in the car. Her, Maura, the kiss, the want, but most of all the pain. Maura's face... Jane shakes her head to free it, feeling sick. ''She didn't... it was my choice...'' she swallows hard as he stares at her. She really doesn't like the look on his face. ''Why are you looking at me like that?''

''You two weren't lovers, right?''

An anvil lands in her stomach. ''Why the hell would you ask that?''

His eyes narrow. ''I heard things.''

She scoffs, her insides are doing triple jumps. ''Right, I bet it was Crowe. He's an ass.''

''Does it matter who it was. This is me asking, were you?''

She stands taller, glaring. ''We weren't lovers. Satisfied? Now I'm going home.'' This time she pushes past him, he catches her arm, it surprises the hell out of her enough reflexes don't knock him on his ass. ''Let go.'' she grits her teeth.

His hand drops, he may be a Marine, but he knows she can cause damage. He isn't stupid and that's the problem, he isn't stupid. It would be so much better for both of them if he were.

He steps forward. ''There's something else between you two? Did you want too? Did Maura?''

He's searching her eyes. It's to close, he is too close. He needs to back off! ''Really... Really... I've hurt your ego in bed and suddenly it must be because I'm gay. That's what you going with? Doesn't cross your mind I'm not in the fucking mood!'' Her tone is mocking, cruel and the moment it's said, she hates herself.

But it does it's job. He steps away, pain flickering. ''You know what, I deserve better than that... Because you were in the fucking mood when you jumped me at the door!''

Now she feels like a bitch, because he's right. ''Casey...jus...'' a sliced hand shuts her up. She clenches her fists, trying to stop her hands shaking.

He bows his head, breathing deeply, not looking at her. ''You need to sort your stuff out? Fine. When you're sure it's sorted, come back.'' He turns, heading back into the bedroom and slams the door.

She does nothing, says nothing, because what the hell can she say. She stares, feeling like shit. But worse much worse she feels relief she's gotten away with not revealing the truth. There is something between her and Maura, a big elephant of a something, and she'd fucking run from it, right into his arms. She wants to punch the wall, feel the sharp pain through her body, instead of this deep throbbing ache.

She grabs her jacket, watching as her underwear is revealed on his couch. Wondering how in the hell the underwear is here and her jeans were in the bedroom? Everything is like that, back to front, upside down, inside out. Debris, that's what all this is, debris thrown around her. She's made such a mess of everything. She runs hands through her hair, tugging at the knots, pacing.

She stops, looks to the bedroom door, two inches thick and it might as well be miles. She felt closer to him when he was in Afghanistan. How had she screwed up so much? He was a good man, if the truth be told, if she admitted it, she's always wanted him, even back in high school. After everything that has happened to her, with him she still feels safe. Safe... That's the problem he is safe, not just in ways she's lost when Hoyt got hold of her, not that part where nightmares raged. Casey is a safe bet, a sure thing. There is no danger loving him, no unknown. It is laid out, house, kids, future. Which in itself is unbelievable considering how he hurt her, kept away. But he'd never ask her to quit her job, he understood the need, the drive. He was everything any woman would want, honourable, heroic, loving. She'd met all her mother's dreams by saying yes to him, fulfilled all daughterly expectation.

She takes a step towards the bedroom door, hand reaching out to open it. But she doesn't, because as much as Casey was all the things her mother wanted, he didn't make her burn, didn't make her want more, she was never lost in him. It didn't terrify her loving him. Which sounded even to her wrong, so very wrong. But being terrified made you fight, made you take every second and cherish it, live it with everything you had. Shit... she was seriously insane. Is that how she really felt about love? That it should scare the shit out of her?

She sucks in air, because she knows that's exactly what she thinks of love, it should be amazing, an adventure you don't know the ending to, unknown and scary as hell. It shouldn't be a sure thing, it should be more, much much more. She's shifting, her whole body a wire of emotion, vibrating with the admission. It hits her then, what exactly this means. It chokes, she had it, she had scary as hell, she had been terrified, alive, pulsing, shivering with the unknown, and she'd thrown it away, run from it. Maura. Oh god... She didn't want safe, she didn't want a sure thing, she wanted to feel like she was spinning out of control, a tempest raging, everything dizzying into blurs.

The memory of the kiss is so vivid, she traces a finger across her lips. The feeling of tongues and lips. Maura surging forward, the sounds she made, a hum, a middle C. She wants to shoot herself, again... What an idiot. She had it, all of it. Maura was a tornado she didn't see coming, ripping a part her defences, shattering her senses, turning her world inside out. She is Dorothy and Maura has picked her up and slam dunked her in Oz. No ruby slippers but Jimmy Choos. It bubbles inside, a laugh, a sob, a glee bubble bursting at finally facing it. She wonders if she clicks her heels together she'll end up home... Maura.

But it isn't going to be that easy. Oh yes, she had it, it was terrifying and what had she done? Run... Fucking run. She never ran from anything, so why the hell did she? Because she's an idiot, a coward. She gave in to all the insecurities, all the fears. But no sorry excuses were going to fix this, it was all or nothing. She has to show Maura the truth. Her face falls... Maura, god, how she'd hurt her. It surges, the anger at herself, the disgust. The remembrance of the act nearly makes her crumble and cry.

She has to fix this. She turns away from the bedroom door, from him. Walking fast, as she pulls on her jacket. Ignoring the fact she's crying. She choosing again, and this time it isn't him. She should tell him, but no, no this time, Maura comes first. He will have to wait.

As she runs down the stairs to the foyer, what terrifies her now, is that it's too late. That she's destroyed her chance, thrown it away and Maura won't give her another. Can't or won't forgive her, because the devastation she's caused is unrepairable.

As she pushes open the entrance doors, fumbling in her pockets to find keys. She honestly doesn't believe she deserves a second chance. But she has to try, believes this is the right thing to do, now she's gotten her head out of her ass.

When she gets in the car, her jaw is set. When she turns the ignition her hands aren't trembling. As she pulls the car out and heads towards Maura's, she feels recharged, alive.

Because if there's one thing she has always known how to do her whole life, is fight. She's going to, with everything she has, even if it means she gets destroyed by the tornado.

…...

TBC

A/N

Oh, to the guest reviewer who is my spell checker. Thank you for reading. But please know I am British, we put vowels and other silent letters in words, where Americans do not. We like adding them, they make us feel special. :P However the ones I did spell completely wrong, I thank you. I learn.

To all reviewers and readers. I thank you all.


	3. Tsunami

Do not own. No infringement. No profit. No chance of ever getting Maura to help me with the bodies in the basement.

Part Three of Rain...

Jane. pov

Enjoy.

* * *

Tsunami.

It's a moment of calm. The storm inside receding, leaving in its wake, devastation. Everything battered, bruised, hurting. The force of what she'd done crashing in a wave as soon as she'd parked opposite Maura's home. As if it had been building, gathering, waiting for just that moment, replaying everything that had led to this. Forming strength in its destruction, all her actions, not just running, lying, hiding. The whole truth of the treatment of the people she was supposed to love, and guilty of so much more. She'd been unable to breath, do anything... it hurt. All she could do was hold on until it passed.

It had, leaving her aching, shaking. She's sitting now, just breathing, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. Engine ticking the only sound around. But she can't bring herself to turn the engine off, that feels too final, that she's committed with no escape to this course. That Maura will turn her away.

Leaving Casey's, the drive over, all of it had her aiming for what she wanted like an Exocet missile, no thoughts only action...to fix this. To Maura. But now, now after the emotional breakdown the doubts are kicking in. Her fingers flex around the steering wheel, scars aching at how hard she'd been gripping. She turns her head, looking to the door. The front porch light is off, leaving the area ominous and daunting. Eyes shifting to the guest house, at least her mother would be a sleep. She doesn't need a confrontation with her right now. She tilts her head back, exhaling air in a puff. Where does she start? What does she say? Her eyes go to the door again. Well, she should get her ass out of the car, that's a start. But suddenly she's paralysed by what exactly it would mean, could lead too. She shudders, she'd rather be facing a druggie with a gun. At least then she could rely on her training, her instincts, where emotions didn't come in to it.

What waits behind that door is going to be a land mine. Shit... She bows her head. How does she explain why she did it...Why she ran? How is she going to get Maura to believe her, or even listen? Maura, deals in evidence, logic. Well, the evidence is solid, unquestionable, She chose him, ran away, turned her down, broke Maura's heart. The logic? That's just plain screwed too, she ran from who she wanted... how is that logical? Fuck... She slams palms onto the wheel, letting the sting push through her, clenching hands tight around scars. Part of her wants to just drive away, come back when she has something, anything. Because what she's coming up with now is a pitiful argument. Judge, jury and executioner... The words replay. It's totally ironic Maura is now all three, overseeing her case.

There's other doubts too. Maybe Maura deserves better, better than the pain associated with knowing her. She sighs heavily, because there is the main problem, she honestly thinks all she has ever brought Maura is pain. Her last act just added to the long list. She shot herself, she knew that brought pain and fear, didn't matter the reason for why. Just being her friend meant Maura was put in the line of fire. Hoyt, yeah, him. Maura wears a scar both on her skin and inside. Hoyt got to Maura in more ways than one. She scoffs, Hoyt had seen, seen and locked on to the fact Maura meant something more. Her stomach churns, scars flaring, she rubs at them. It isn't just Hoyt, he's dead, that one won't come back. There's Paddy, still the thorn in both their sides. Always leading back to the moment when she'd shot him. They may have both dealt with it, forgiven, but there were invisible scars from that time too. God... So many things she's pulled Maura into, exposed too. Maybe Maura is better off without her.

Her breathing hitches... If she looks at the dark, she has to look at the light. Has to believe she's done something right. Maura is different not just because of all the negatives. She knows she's given Maura good things too, helped bring her out of her shell, shown her joys other than shoes and clothing, that there's something more than just accomplishments of work. Family, yeah, she's given Maura a family, even if it is dysfunctional as hell. A smile grows at that thought. Maura now understands what it means to be included, accepted. Maura is part of her family. The smile slips... Lately that hasn't been true. Maura had distanced herself not only from her, but her family. Absent from family Sundays, leaving her house for use, always busy somewhere else. Jane didn't blame her, she hadn't been there either, couldn't face it, thought if she stayed away Maura would at least have that. It had struck deep when her mother told her Maura didn't attend. It was then she realised exactly what she'd taken away, it wasn't only her, it was all of it and that was just plain wrong.

She knows she doesn't deserve Maura. But she wants her. She craves her. She wants a kiss like the one in the car which blew her socks off. Wants to taste, to feel, and yeah the whole naked body to body thing too. She wipes at her forehead. Jesus... Just thinking about it is turning her on. Maura, her smile, laugh, all the geeky, weirdy, googly stuff. Plus, Maura is hot! She giggles... Shit, she giggled. Christ, she's got it bad. How could she run from this? This all encompassing feeling which is tingling her toes. She's never let it out before, never given it free rein. She's locked it away, shrugged it off. All the look she's given, the flirting, cos hell yeah they flirt. She just never thought Maura felt the same way... Well that hit her in the back of the head like a slap. Maura loves her... wanted her. It had left her speechless, breathless, completely thrown into turmoil and what had come out of her mouth, had not been what was inside her heart. She shakes her head, sighing heavily. She's not only lied to others, the biggest person she's lied to, is herself. What a mess...

She feels it rising again, determination, determination to fix this. As she moves to turn off the engine, she sees out of the corner of her eye the porch light come on. The front door opening. She quickly turns off the engine, shifting down in the seat, ducking from view, peeking to see over the windows edge. Realising what she's just done out of training, she shakes her head. She doesn't want to hide like she's doing something wrong, for once she's doing something right. Moving to sit up, she freezes. Watching, watching as a man steps out. Her brow furrows, it's Two am...who the hell is he? She doesn't recognise him at all. Her instincts peak, taking in his appearance, he's to well dressed and relaxed to be a burglar. Her jaw clenches as she watches Maura step into the doorway, silk robe wrapped tight. Her stomach drops, beginning to realise what exactly he is doing here. It's confirmed when he leans, kissing Maura on the lips.

She sucks in air, dread settling, dread at the fact she's too late to fix anything. But she sits straighter as she watches Maura step back from him, pulling her robe tightly closed. She squints, forcing her sight to focus. She knows that smile, knows the one Maura is using, it's a polite, 'I don't want to offend you' one. The man's demeanour changes. She wishes she could hear him, but his body language is telling her enough, he isn't happy. She watches Maura step back from him again, one hand going to the door, ready to close it. He moves forward. It's Maura's body language that's setting off alarms, she's nervous. Jane doesn't even stop to think, she's already opening the car door. Eyes on him the whole time she's walking closer. She can hear now what he's saying and she doesn't like his tone at all.

"HEY!"

Both of them turn to her yell. Her eyes briefly lock with Maura's, seeing the shock and yeah there's a flash of relief too, just before it disappears to anger. She'll handle that soon enough. She turns her focus on the guy. He's looking her up and down, she returns the favour. She stops just short of him. "What's the problem?" She can feel Maura's eyes boring. But she keeps her attention on him.

His face is turning a nice shade of red. "Who the hell are you?"

Now she's close she can smell the alcohol on his breath. "Detective Jane Rizzoli. You are?" she hides the smirk as he straightens, realising she's a cop. For good measure she moves her jacket enough to show the badge, resting left hand on her gun. She can virtually feel Maura's eyes burning into her back.

His attention is fixed firmly on her gun, the swallow he does should take the Adams apple with it. "I... I'm James, James, Blackwood."

"Nice to meet you. So, what's the problem. James?"

Maura steps into her view. Oh, she's pissed. She nearly takes a step away. Yeah, druggie with a gun sounds great right about now.

"James was just leaving and there is no reason for you to be here."

She stares. Maura stares right back. crossing her arms. Oh, she can do that too, so she does. Maura just huffs.

"Well, ah, Maura, I'm going to go."

Neither of them break the gaze they have on each other to acknowledge him.

"Right, I... Well, Maura, you can call me."

She rolls her eyes, like that's going to happen any time soon.

Maura looks away, giving her attention to him. Smiling. Yep, the same polite one. ''Good night. James.''

Jane's gaze follows his retreat, it's a fast one. It makes her smirk. "What an ass. What was he doing here anyway?"

Hazel eyes flash. "Don't... This is none of your business... and you have no right. How dare you do this. How dare you."

As much as Maura is getting angry, so is she. She did not expect to come here and see this. Jealousy is spiking so high she can't filter her words. "What did you expect me to do? Just sit in the car and watch him get pissed off at you?"

For someone who is shorter, Maura seems to gain inches as she steps closer. "I can take care of myself. I do not need you... Wait. What were you doing sitting in you're car?"

Okay, shit... She runs a hand through her hair, calming down the jealousy she really has no right having. What did she expect? Maura to become celibate. She certainly hadn't. "I was just about to come in and see you."

"At two thirty three am." Maura scoffs.

''It seems you get a lot of visitors at this time. Thought I'd just join the party." it's out before she can stop it. The death glare she's now getting is making her sweat. "Okay, I'm sorry. Forget I said that... I just need to speak to you."

Maura isn't giving an inch. She can't read her at all, it hurts not to be able too. All emotions are back in check, the impassive M.E. on full view.

"I will be in my office at Seven thirty. I'm sure I can assist you then."

"This isn't about work!" Maura doesn't even pause she's already brushing passed her. Oh hell, no... She follows, only to have the door swing closed so fast she barely has time to get her face out the way. "Whoa... Wait."

"I don't think so."

She gets a foot in the last gap, winching as wood meets the outside of it, hard. "Maura!"

"Remove your foot."

She jerks, as the door is drawn back and shoved harder closed. "Hey! Ow! Jesus..."

"Remove it or lose it."

Jane's eyebrows hike. Amusement dancing. "I don't think it's possible you can actually chop off my foot just by jamming a door on it." The door eases off. She takes a sigh of relief only for it to turn into a yelp as the door is slammed again. "Son of a..."

"I can assure you, a repetitive blow over a short period of time, can damage and actually dislocate the joint of an appendage."

Holy crap, she's serious... She slams her palm on the door as it comes back again, stopping it. "I know you're pissed at me." she increases the resistance as the door starts closing again. Surprised to realise she actually has to put some more muscle behind it. Which she really shouldn't be, she's seen Maura running, doing yoga, the muscles that takes. The door shifts again. "Okay, okay... Stop... Just, just can you listen to me for a minute." The door doesn't open, but the pressure on it eases.

"Why?"

"Because I... I'm sorry." She tries to peek through the gap, but Maura is keeping well out of view.

"You need to leave. I do not want you here."

It's sounds so final. But she isn't going to believe Maura means it...can't believe. "Maura... Please... I'm sorry for hurting you. For being an ass. Jesus, for everything that's happened... Can you let me in, so we can talk about it?"

"We have nothing to talk about. You have already expressed your apologies. There is nothing more to discuss."

She bites back her growing frustration. She'd actually forgotten how cyborg Maura could be sometimes. "Yes, there is... I was wrong okay. I was wrong. I need to tell you everything."

"I do not need to hear it, or want too."

The door pushes harder again. It's now she has to tell the truth now. "I shouldn't have said yes to Casey." The door stops pushing. She takes a breath... Removing her foot and hand. "I made a mistake. A big one." The door doesn't move either way. She takes a deeper breath, wishing she could see Maura's face. "Maura?"

The door shuts with a slam. She blinks, air stuck somewhere in her chest. God that hurts. But it also pisses her off. Out of habit her hand goes to her key chain... She'll let her fucking self in, see how she likes them apples. Her thoughts stutter... She hasn't got the key, like an idiot she gave it back. Thinking she was doing the right thing. Giving Maura back her space, security in knowing she wasn't just going to turn up, come in. All she'd really done is hurt her more and put another nail in the coffin of their relationship. She's done everything wrong. Hindsight is a fucking bitch!

"Damn it. I don't even deserve Five minutes?" she listens, straining to hear, catching an inhale of air. Her eyes flutter, she hasn't totally lost her. Maura is still on the other side of the door. She sighs, leaning her forehead against the wood. "I am so sorry, I know I've hurt you. I wouldn't give me five minutes either..." she's swallowing hard. Her voice breaking on emotions. "I can't take it back, what I did... I wish I could... but I want to fix it...with everything I am I want to fix us." She takes strength in the fact she hears Maura's breathing stutter. She waits, waits, but nothing comes, no movement, no sound. "Are... are you still there?"

"Yes."

"Okay. good..." She exhales in relief. "Can we talk? Really talk?"

"I see no reason too. You have said what you obviously needed to say. I have nothing to say to you... Now you can go."

"I don't want to go." She sounds like a petulant child, but she doesn't care. She doesn't want to leave again.

"This is not about what you want!"

Her eyes come up. Anger, that was anger, she can work with anger. "You're right it isn't. It's about what you want... I know you don't want to talk to me. I know...'' she exhales, this is hard. ''I know I probably don't deserve it, any of your time. I know, god, I know how bad I've handled everything...'' She waits, some vague hope that Maura will correct her bad to badly. When it doesn't come she feels heavy, weighed down. ''Maura, you wanted me.'' The only sound is a hitch in the breathing from behind the door. She has to strain to hear the whispered words when they're spoken.

"And we know exactly how that went. I am the one who made a mistake. Go away, Jane."

Her heart actually stops. "No. No. Don't say that. I did. I made the mistake... Please Maura, please open the door."

"I don't think that would be beneficial to either of us. I'm going to bed. Good night."

She came to fight, to show she was in this. She slams her palm hard against the door. Pretty sure she can hear Maura squeak in surprise. "Okay fine. You do that. I'm not going anywhere Maura. No where... Not running... Staying... I'll be right here when you come out in the morning... Yep, right here on this very comfy looking stoop." still no sounds. "…... Just step over my hypothermicy riddled body on your way out." She sits, leaning back against the front door, pulling her legs up, resting her chin on them. Rubbing at her face. It's all bravado, she's fucking terrified.

Suddenly the world tilts and she's falling backwards so fast she doesn't have time to grab anything or regain balance. She's flat on her back before she can even swear. She blinks, looking up, a tiny grin spreading at the sight of a flustered Maura, mouth open looking down at her. She looks beautiful, dishevelled. The light behind, haloing honey hair. Maura takes her breath away. "Hi... Fancy seeing you here."

Maura face changes to annoyance, "This is not funny."

She chews her lip. "Is a little bit."

"Jane."

Now she hears exasperation, but worse she hears pain. All humour vanishes. "You're right it isn't." she stands quickly. Suddenly more nervous than she's ever been in her life. But the door is open, Maura is here. Eyes meeting hers, she can tell Maura is searching for something. So she lets everything she's feeling show.

Maura shakes her head. "Did you expect to just come here and everything would be fine?"

"No."

"Then why come?"

"Because it is the right thing to do."

"For you Jane...not for me. Please just leave."

"You opened the door Maura, why?"

"Hypothermicy isn't a word." Maura's voice is low timid.

Jane's mouth twitches. Feeling a caress of normality. This Maura she knows. "Really, that's why you opened the door to correct my English?"

"I don't know why."

"I think you do..." Maura looks away. She continues quickly." Doesn't matter, I mean it does... I'm just glad you did...Can we talk?"

"Would it do any good to say no?"

"Nope. I'll really sit out here till morning." she gives a small smile.

Maura let's out a huff of air. Eyes anywhere but on her. "What more is there to say. Jane?"

"A lot. I meant it."

"Did you fight with Casey?"

The question stills her, knowing Maura thinks she's just a second choice. "I'm not here because of Casey..." Her eyes dip, watching as Maura plays with her ring. Knowing it means she's off centre, nervous. "This has nothing to do with him."

Maura's eyes come up slowly. "What has it to do with?"

She takes a small step closer. "You and me."

Maura however takes a bigger step back. "There is no you and I."

She wants to just grab Maura, kiss her, put everything she is into the meeting of lips. To hear the hum Maura gives, let it vibrate. But she can't. This isn't a Hollywood Movie where the heroine says sorry and everything is okay. This is reality. The reality of hurting someone so much they can't bare to look at you, let alone breath the same air. "Maura... I know I've hurt you." She jumps as a finger pokes her chest, hard enough to make her step back. Another poke sends her stumbling a step back outside.

Maura's following, voice raising. "No! You. Have. No. Idea. None!" each word is accompanied with a poke.

She stops retreating, standing firm. "Maura."

"No..."

The poking stops. She resists the urge to place a hand over the poked spot, not because it hurts, because it's Maura touch. She watches as Maura runs a shaky hand through her hair. Hazel eyes lifting to meet hers. She doesn't like the look in them, resigned, cold, all emotions back in check again.

"I'm going back inside. I will not answer the door again, Jane. If you insist on sitting out here, I will call the police."

"I am the police."

There's nothing in Maura's face when she speaks. "You are a trespasser."

Her whole body jerks. The fight in her stutters. She breathes the name on a plea. "Maura... I..."

Maura cuts her off. "Leave. I will not do this with you. You made it perfectly clear where you stand with me. You have shown during the last months you are with him. You have said nothing, done nothing to prove otherwise... I begged you Jane, begged you!"

She swallows hard. "I know, I'm so so sorry. I..." She can't finish, her voicing breaking as she watches tears spill down Maura's face. "Maur..." She reaches out a hand, but Maura steps fully away.

She can only watch as Maura wipes away at her tears, angrily.

"No... You do not get to touch me... Four months, Jane. Four months. Now suddenly you decide differently and I'm supposed to just forget everything you have done or said?... You told me I was wrong, you told me you... you didn't feel the same... You... ''

It breaks her heart watching Maura struggle with words, so much showing on her face, the pain she's caused. She can't stay still, she steps forward again, but Maura retreats back further. Hiccuping a breath, regaining control.

''You... You are marrying him. I am not part of that, You made your choice now live with it and let me live mine."

She clenches her fists, body shaking. Watching as Maura turns away, leaving. "No. I'm **not**!"

Maura stills, head turning to look at her. "What?"

She chances a step forward. Hands opening, wanting to touch, but knowing she has lost the right. Breathing out, to still the panic. "I'm not marrying Casey. Because he isn't the one I want to be with."

Maura scoffs, looking her up and down. "I don't believe you. You're running again from someone else... it's your new trait."

Okay, that one stung... "I'm not running. I want you, Maura... You. It's always been you."

Maura just stares. Blinking so slowly, she can see lashes flutter. She swallows hard, when Maura laughs, and it's not the good kind, it's mocking.

"Really? You had a sudden epiphany?"

She really has to bite back her usual urge to make fun of the posh word. But there is no time for humour. She's losing Maura, she can see it. "No. I just finally faced the truth. You... You're my truth. I'm so sorry what I did to you.'' when Maura doesn't stop her, she continues, her whole body vibrating with the conviction she's trying to put into words. ''It was too much, knowing, seeing. Hearing what you said, I never... I never thought you felt the same way... it scared the hell out me. I ran, I fucking ran, when all I wanted to do was stay... but things got so messed up. I didn't know... I didn't know what to do... so I pretended like it didn't happen, that somehow it was just a fluke... All I was doing was lying to you, to Casey, to fucking everyone. Trying to play the part. But it's not me Maura, this, Casey, it's not who I am. I'm sick of pretending, I'm so tired of lying... now, now here this is the truth... This is the real me, and I know it's hard to believe that, I do, I really do. I'm so sorry, please let me try to fix this. Let me prove what I'm saying is true. Give me time to show you?"

Maura's staring is unnerving.

"I won't run again... I promise. I'm here to stay. If you'll have me?'' she tries to see something, anything in Maura's eyes, that's she heard her. But what she's getting is a blank stare. She doesn't care she sounds desperate, she has no pride left. ''Please say something, Maura... anything?"

"What does Casey think of this sudden change?"

Okay, that wasn't what she was expecting at all. For a second her mind goes completely blank. "Seriously? You're asking about how he feels?"

"Yes."

She rubs her neck. Suddenly realising the way she's done this, is about to come back and bite her in the ass. "I... I haven't told him, yet. I wanted to talk to you first... He doesn't know, I mean he does... he knows something is wrong, I mean we... '' her brain is telling her to shut up, but the words just spill. ''…... we argued, he asked me if we... if you and I... I said no... He told me to sort my stuff out... Which I am... not that you're stuff.'' Her eyes widen in panic. ''Wait, no. I mean he did... shit... okay... '' she stops, taking deep breaths. ''This isn't coming out right... He doesn't matter... You do. I will tell him.'' finally her brain wins and her mouth snaps shut. But she suddenly realises what she'd said... '_I said no.' _Shit.. shit... She didn't mean this, she meant lovers. Her mouth opens to explain, but Maura's expression had already turned to stone.

Maura doesn't say anything as she turns away, stepping back into the house, not one look back at her.

This time when the door slams in her face, the frame shudders. It has a stinging finality, when the click of locks fall into place.

"No..." She steps forward, hand raised to knock. The porch light goes out, along with it all the lights in the house. It's like all the light in the world has gone, leaving her in her own worse darkness. Her hand falters, frozen inches away from the wood. It uncurls, palm laying flat against it. Her head drops. Breathing is fire.

The wave that surges now, weakens her knees. It rises, crashing, leaving behind nothing but devastating loss. Grief spills from her on a name, the only name that has ever really mattered. "Maura."

TBC

* * *

A/N

Thank you all for reviews and taking time to read. x

This chapter was brought to you with the help of doughnuts and 'Spartacus' Jeff Wayne verrrrrrrrrrrrry loudly... Nothing to do with the plot of this story, but the beat kicks ass. My writing is tempo. My imagination is the bass line. I thank you.


	4. Tempest

No infringement. No profit. No right what so ever to play with them. But my cat says it's okay.

Part 4. In the Storm series.

Maura pov.

* * *

Tempest.

Maura closes the panel on the fuse box, all the lights now out. It was the quickest way to gain her goal. No light, the significance obvious. Go away Jane there is no candle burning in the window. No welcome, no joyous home coming.

Her eyes fix on the front door. Waiting... For what? She doesn't know. She is numb, no feelings of fear, expectation or care. Jane's words resounding. Everything around is too sharp on her senses. She hears it then, her name.

''Maur...''

It's lost, broken, whispered. But she hears it like a scream, each letter a vibration, as if she's standing in an auditorium, acoustics echoing. Jane has always said her name differently than any other person she has known. It's a sirens call... She's stepping forward, before her brain registers. She's shaking as she reaches to disengage the locks, fingers quivering. Struggling to move her hand the final millimetres it would take to do so. She is at war within, frozen unable to finish commands.

The emotional ramifications of their confrontation has left her raw, exposed, exhausted. Her steel control is cracking, tiny fractures across her psyche. Thoughts swirl, fighting against each other. To open the door, throw her arms around Jane, jump into her, climb and scream, I believe you, I want you, touch me. The other part is rage, anger, pain, rejection. Demanding she withdraw, close off, shut down. _'do not open that door!'_ Her hand drops, she takes a step back. Staring, staring into nothing.

The tempest builds, ripping her apart, cell by cell, thought by thought. She is Prospero, standing at the edge of the cliffs, watching the ship wreck of her life. Seeing in the lightning strikes the turmoil of family. Heart broken, betrayed by those she trusted. Maura has never understood the character more. She is wreckage, powered by the bounds of betrayal. Yelling into the storms eye, stranded and alone. Hearing the whispers of her own betrayer, offering any thing, everything. But they are false promises, past actions the true writing in stone. She wishes she had Prospero's books, magical staff. Have command over forces, to have the power to go back, to not take the same course, to remain mute. But it is impossible, history has been formed, the chain of events continues. Now she must endure the aftermath of her choice and Jane's.

Her eyes snap to the door as she hears her name again. But this time they harden. The siren call is not enchanting, it is hisses and snaps. The tempest rages, her own thoughts the screams within... How could she! How dare she! How dare Jane come here after nothing for months. How dare she assume words can fix this, fix them. How dare she now come to her. How dare she act before thought. But that is Jane, that is her way, to do what she wants, when she wants. Then only then look back at the fallout of her actions. Jane does not learn, she repeats. Jane will hurt her again. How can she trust her? How can she believe?

The anger warms, ignites a fire, burning, burning through the numbness. It surges, her muscles pulsing with the adrenaline... She wants to scream, rant, do something, anything. She starts pacing. How do people deal with this? How do they survive? Her eyes dart to a vase, the colours had attracted her when she'd seen it at a market in Mexico. She picks it up, turning it in her hands. She throws it, watching it arch, fly, impacting the wall, shattering, falling into shards. She steps closer, looking down at the destruction. She could say that is her, in pieces, broken. But it isn't, all it is a vase she's destroyed. It's potter will not be remembered, the time he took with his art, lost. She will never be able to look at it again and recall the pleasure of finding it, never be in awe of it's creation.

Throwing something did not help. All she feels now is guilty, angry, sad, hurt... lost. It's all consuming. Her breathing increases, sounds caught in her throat. It's too much, it's all too much. Her fists clench as she hears her name again, this time stronger, pleading. She squeezes her eyes shut, sending tears free. Gritting her teeth to the point her jaw is flexing with pain. She tries not to listen, tries not to care. But she is, she is listening for any sound, any sign that Jane is still there. When she hears nothing, she is caught between relief and despair.

It's spinning, the world is spinning. She's trying to breath. She can't, her body is tensing, chest tight. The doctor in her knows what is happening, she is hyperventilating. She knows medically the reason everything is spinning, Alveolar ventilation is occurring. Her erratic breathing is not allowing her bodies systems to function correctly. Carbon dioxide is rising, the body is taking to much from the blood stream, more than her normal system can produce. Levels are falling, Hypocapnia is beginning, not enough carbon dioxide in her system, to much oxygen. Her body will try to compensate, increasing production. Which causes her internal systems to fail. If she doesn't get her breathing under control and balance the inhale of oxygen. Her body will continue to protect itself. She tries holding her breath, but she can't, the panic is getting away from her. Respiratory alkalosis is starting, the physical symptoms are sweeping across her; dizziness, tingling of her hands and feet, muscles trembling, sweating.

She has to stop this, stop this right now. She stumbles away from the door, vision already blurred. Brain sending distress, aorta pressure dropping as the cambers of the heart slow to expel blood, causing a chain reaction. Instructing the rest of the body to shut down to reduce the usage of oxygen. It is a cascade that will eventually lead to syncope, blackout, to protect the higher brain function. She is experiencing a full blown panic attack.

She stumbles to the coach, falling the last step. Trying to level her breathing, maintaining an equal inhale of oxygen, an exhale of carbon dioxide. Her body is in survival mode, so is she. She has to find a focus, a centre stone. Her mind is chaos, skipping, stuttering over everything she knows. She searches, words filter, come, leave. Science means nothing, her past is just more pain. She expands her mind, a memory of words form...

_Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted,_ _I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend._ _(O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted)_ _I'll think of Love in books, Love without end;_ _Women with child, content; and old men sleeping;_ _And wet strong plough lands, scarred for certain grain;_ _And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping;_ _And the young heavens, forgetful after rain;_ _And evening hush, broken by homing wings;_ _And Song's nobility, and Wisdom holy,_ _That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things,_ _Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly,_ _One after one, like tasting a sweet food._ _I have need to busy my heart with quietude..._

The words ghost away, whispering their retreat. Slowly, the vortex lessens, the pin pricks of darkness in her vision are ebbing, the room focusing back into the twilight of night. Her breathing calms. A poem, one she'd read so long ago. This, this has stilled the tempest. She remembers reading the poem on her sixteenth birthday. She didn't understand the words, was a vacuum in the emotions needed. Now she feels it, because now she is not a void in the feelings of love. It is a bitter sweet realization. She breathes, finally breathes again. She's curled over, hands holding her face. At some point she has starting rocking, the gentle motion somehow grounding. Her heart rate levels. Systems returning to normal as a balance is restored within.

She finally sits up straight. Hand wiping forehead, pushing hair back behind ears. Soothes down the silk of her robe. Movements of normality to calm. Her eyes rise slowly, locking onto the door. She's scared. Not of the panic, not of the way she has no control. She's scared because she wants to open the door, to believe Jane so badly it's shaking her foundation of logic. Logic dictates Jane will repeat, it is in her nature to act first and then deal with the aftermath. The percentage of Jane hurting her again is high, so high. But what if it is true? What if Jane means what she is saying? Because if Maura accepts Jane's flaws she has to accept her strengths. When Jane makes up her mind, chooses her course, committed. There is nothing, no one, that can deviate Jane from it.

She grunts, rubbing at her temple. She hates what ifs. They are assumptions, guesses, wishes, no evidence. She pauses... Then look at the evidence. The car, in the car... Jane responded, Maura felt it, saw it, Jane wanted her. Even before then she's seen, glances, secret looks, knowing smiles. Attraction, it worked both ways. And their friendship was unlike anything she had ever had before. Their life, their past. The times Jane has been there for her, even when it meant she'd gotten hurt. Jane had given up her oath as a police officer to protect her, keeping her secret of being paddy's daughter. Saved her life. In more ways than one.

She rubs the scar on her neck. Jane has done so much for her. Helped find her mother, stood by her through the emotional turmoil. Her best friend, showing her much more than she'd ever been shown before. All of it is why she has fallen in love with Jane. She exhales slowly. She knows she isn't innocent, she's hurt Jane too. Her actions directly hurt Jane, yet Jane still saved her, forgave. So if she deserved another chance, doesn't Jane? Humans make mistakes, everyone is flawed. They learn from experiences, learn from others. The difference is in an individual who knows they are wrong, or done wrong, wanting to correct the mistake. Jane came here, the biggest piece of evidence of them all. Laid herself bare, opened herself to hurt. Came to fix her mistake.

It flows through her like mercury, quick silver across her synapses, awakening the want, the love. She believes. She's not afraid any more. She stands, hands flexing, walking slowly towards the door. As she releases the locks one by one, she's reminded again of Prospero, his words; _''too light winning may make the prize light,"_ If Jane means what she says, has chosen her, she will still be on the other side of this door... fighting, waiting, waiting for her. For the first time Maura finds clarity in the words of Prospero finally understanding what he means... Some things are worth fighting for.

Taking a deep breath, holding it deep, she places her hand on the handle, turning it, pulling the door inward and open...

TBC

* * *

A/N

Don't hurt me. Well you can, but then I can't write. So just think mean thoughts. :P

Thank you all for reading, and of course taking the time to send a review. I hope I answered all of you, forgive if I didn't.

The poem is The Busy Heart. By Rubert Brooke. I borrow without permission. But his work is being forgotten and should be brought back to the new generation. I just know Maura Isles would have some point read his work.

Prospero is the main character in Shakespeare's The Tempest. Again borrowed without permission.

As soon as I see them both I'll ask if it was okay.


	5. update

Hi all.

Just to let you know, this story will continue in The Senses series. Posted separately and will be available soon.

Thank you all for reviews, Pms, and all the guest reviews too.

This started as a one shot and has grown thanks to every single one of you reading and enjoying.

Thank You

Red x


End file.
